Chapter 9
And the Crowd Goes Wild
Oh my god, the cheering.
The sheer volume that two innocent sets of delighted parents and an overly excitable housekeeper can achieve.
It’s possible I might’ve just upended ten or twenty plans that Nadine already set in motion when we were going to have our big ceremony in town at the Spruce Fellowship church.
But judging from the giddy look on her face, I’ve apparently just given her and the room an early Christmas present.
Everyone loves the idea of taking this whole thing down to the beaches of Dreamwood Isle, the gayest hot spot on the Texas coast.
Seeing the happiness and thrill on everyone’s faces fills me with so much comfort, I feel like I’m floating.
Nadine cackles when my ma suggests something about playing beach volleyball.
Jacky-Ann is discussing beach attire to my spaced-out pa, who probably hasn’t seen the beach in years.
The next thing I know, I’ve been yanked right back into the kitchen around the corner from the table. “Billy?” hisses Tanner, his eyes wide. “What’s—What was—The beach? We’re going to the beach now? What the heck is goin’ on?”
“I’ve not been myself,” I tell him. “That’s what’s goin’ on.”
“So we’re back to pretending we’re stayin’ together?”
“No.” I take hold of Tanner’s hands. “We are stayin’ together.”
I expected him to ask a few more questions before he gets all teary-eyed, but the second I say those words, his eyes well right up like he’s got his own dam of emotion he’s been holding back.
“Are you serious? We’re …?” He takes hold of my face suddenly like it’s a legendary lucky football. “We’re stayin’ together, babe? Really?”
“I’m not sayin’ this is gonna work. I’m not even sure it will.
But maybe that’s part of the magic of bein’ with people you love when you’re not at your best. Trusting they’ll be there for you anyway.
” I bring my hands to his. Now we’re both holding the legendary lucky football.
“I think I forgot we’re in this together.
I also need to be there for you when you’re goin’ through the mud.
Or have another crushing loss with your football team. ”
“Never gonna happen again,” he quickly mutters.
I bring his hands down from my face, peering into his eyes. “I know we … we don’t fit like we used to, Tanner …”
“I know,” he whispers.
“But that’s okay. Because I don’t think we’re supposed to. We are allowed to fit differently. In a new way. Like a … a worn-in pair of cleats. No one likes tight-ass new cleats straight outta the box.”
“Fuck no,” he agrees.
“I’m not done with you, Tanner. Not even close.”
He rushes for my lips before I can even take my next breath, and then we’re kissing.
Hands still joined, fingers woven together.
We’ve kissed countless times, but there is something different in the way he kisses me in this moment.
It feels free and unburdened. It feels intentional, without a hint of misgiving or reluctance.
“I’m sure glad you’re not done with my ass,” he says after the kiss, “because I’ve got a confession to make.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Confession?”
Just then, Marcus and Joshua appear at the foot of the stairs. “What’s going on?” asks Joshua, his face wrinkled up as he looks at the loud and celebratory quintet in the dining room.
Nadine is straight out of her seat and rushing up in front of the boys. “We’re goin’ to the beach for the vow renewal ceremony! Isn’t that amazing, kids? The beach!”
Marcus and Joshua turn to look at us, wide-eyed.
That’s understandable; the kids have been seeing the behind-the-scenes of our lives in a way no one else in this room has, and none of this marital rollercoaster makes sense to them.
We owe the boys an explanation.
And that’s exactly what we give them when Tanner and I take the kids outside to the front porch and sit them down at Grandma Nadine and Grandpa Paul’s favorite reading spot. All the potted plants on this porch are named. I don’t know a single one of them.
“Dad and I have been a little strange lately,” I tell them. “Well, mostly me. Not Dad.”
“It’s okay, Papa,” says Joshua right away. “I’m strange, too.”
“Shush, Joshua, let him talk,” chides Marcus.
I smile and pat Joshua on the shoulder. “Dad and I need to tell you boys the truth. After all, we’re a family, are we not? And it’s important—perhaps the most important thing—that everyone in a family is honest with each other.”
“You’ve just been sad,” says Joshua.
“Josh,” growls Marcus under his breath.
“Yes, Joshua, from time to time. I’ve been … a lot of things. Grownups have a lot of things up here in their head all the time. Maybe sadness is one of them.”
“You don’t have to be happy all the time with us,” says Joshua in the sweetest voice, and this time Marcus doesn’t shush him. “I’ll understand when you’re sad. Dad will, too. He can be sensitive to your needs. He’ll give you space.”
He’ll give me space …? I look at Tanner. “Why’s our eleven-year-old talking like a therapist?”
Tanner grimaces. “I … He and I … We might’ve had a talk …”
“It was one time when you guys had a fight. Oh! Sorry,” says Joshua, his eyes wide, “I mean a ‘disagreement’. And Dad told me that you were okay. You just needed space. Everyone needs space. Totally fine. Sometimes my brother is overprotective and I tell him that I need space, too.”
Marcus throws him a questioning look.
I lean forward. “Y’know what that sounds like to me? Sounds like what people do when they care about each other.” I take hold of Tanner’s hand while I keep talking to the kids. “And I care about you boys a lot. I care about Dad, too.”
“You just need some help relaxing,” Joshua suggests brightly, like he’s just a friend offering wise advice.
“I think you’re right,” I agree with a chuckle.
“It’s not a secret that I have difficulty letting go of the reins sometimes.
My crazy butt worries about all sorts of nonsense every minute of the day.
But none of that changes the fact that I love you with all of my heart and want to give you guys the best life I can. ”
Tanner squeezes my hand. “The pressure shouldn’t be all just on you to do that, babe. Let us pitch in to make our lives the best.”
“Yeah,” agrees Joshua, excited. “We can all pitch in.”
Marcus, judging from his guarded expression, is the one I will need to work on the most. He’s heard promises like this before. He doesn’t want his brother’s heart to keep getting lifted up only to be dropped yet again. I can totally understand.
So it’s to him that I deliver my final words. “Will you give me time to prove my devotion to you guys? To earn your trust back?”
Marcus looks me dead in the eye.
For a terrifying moment, I fully believe he’s about to tell me to go to hell with my lies, no matter how deeply in my heart I want this to work and for us to heal.
Then his lips pinch into a resolved smirk, and wouldn’t you know it, steely-eyed Marcus gifts me with the slightest hint of a nod. I vow to myself, right now, to turn that slight nod into a certain one in time.
“And don’t worry, Papa,” whispers Joshua to me. “I won’t tell anyone about this. Not even Grandma Nadine. It can be our secret. Our family secret.”
Marcus ruffs up his little brother’s hair. “Good luck with that one.” And he breaks a smile. Then I do, too. And suddenly, all four of us crush together into an impromptu hug I’m not sure which of us instigated.
Maybe all of us at once. I fucking love my family.
So it’s as a unified front that we return to the house and join the others at the table. And as I sit next to Tanner and the boys, our fathers well into discussing plans to fix our house up, I feel at home again right where I belong.
That’s how I feel just a couple of weeks later when we’re all seated at this big table once again, except it’s filled from one end to the other with a delicious spread of food for Thanksgiving.
It’s like night and day between me and Tanner.
Every goofy remark he makes has me cracking smiles just like they used to—even if I still think his dad jokes are too bad to even call cringe.
I find myself in awe of how attentive he is to the kids, noticing things I think I’ve been too gummed up lately to notice myself.
He anticipates every dang thing I need, including butter for my bread and a topping off of my tasty (and very necessary) wine.
Joshua makes a six-minute speech halfway into the meal (that puts my ma to tears) where he expresses thanks for many things—and mentions the gravy five times. I’ll have to note the recipe.
Mindy and Joel are here with us. Kirk and Bonnie, too, with their rowdy little Kirkland Junior.
Bobby seems to find my kids so adorable, I catching him smiling at me from across the table a few times, as if sharing without words how proud he is for us.
Nadine’s event coordinator Malcolm sits right next to Bobby with his cute veterinarian boyfriend, and yes, I did in fact hire him to help us sort the details of our upcoming ceremony—something to do with me not handling all of the pressure myself, or whatever lesson my dear, caring family insisted once that I learn.
Yeah, it’s been an odd year for a lot of us here in Spruce, so a number of our friends and other families in town join us here at the Strongs for the day, and we’re all the merrier for it—even if it means having to put up with my husband outperforming himself with cheesy jokes and one-upping his brother Jimmy.
There are so many people here, we even had to bring out two additional tables.
Even Tanner’s sassy-as-all-get-out grandma came to town for the holidays.
That woman’s watched us blossom from a very awkward pair of college boys figuring ourselves out to the married men we are today.
(But I think we’ll always be kids in her eyes.)
It’s not to say this day doesn’t go without its hitches.
Mindy spills wine across the table first thing.
Jimmy showed up an hour and a half late due to some hiccup at the gym.
Poor Nadine burned the bread. But chaos is part of the heart of it all, I’ve come to learn.
Mindy’s flustered wine spill turns into an adorable moment with her permanently-gasoline-scented mechanic hubby Joel coming to the rescue with a trick to get out any fresh stain.
It doesn’t work, bless his heart, but that isn’t the point; the two share a moment sweetly helping each other—despite the usual stresses of raising a monstrous pair of three-year-olds.
Jimmy’s late arrival turns out not to have been caused by any “hiccup at the gym”, but instead because he was swinging by their house to set up for a sweet, thoughtful surprise for later when he and Bobby return home.
(I only know that last bit because he spilled the beans to his brother, who in turn told me.) And as for Nadine burning the bread, well, that leads to her having a cute bonding moment with my ma, who decides to divulge a secret bread recipe of her own.
Joshua takes one of the burnt rolls right then, lathers it in butter, and forces himself to take a bite.
“It’s still yummy!” he cries out through his grimace.
No one believes him one bit, but Nadine can’t wipe the grin of appreciation off her face.
When evening rolls around, many friends have gone home, but the core family hangs out on the side porch by the pool (with what’s left of the jalapeno poppers Jacky-Ann whipped up earlier) to watch the sunset.
Nadine is trying to get my ma onboard with an idea she has about renting out a whole floor for our guests at a resort on Dreamwood Isle, figuring they could spend the first few days or so of the new year there.
My ma balks at how pricy that’d be and worries that the beach town will already be totally booked up for New Year’s, and who knows whether the weather will be nice or totally awful and cold?
It’s always a coin toss in Texas this time of the year.
But Nadine insists it’ll be fine—and she knows people.
“Bein’ mayor has its perks,” she points out, then leans in and quietly adds, “I’m best pals with Armando, the sexy GM at the Elysian Seaside Resort & Spa that’s on the prettiest dang beach of Dreamwood Isle, and he does owe me a favor. ”
The stars are out by the time Tanner and I head on back to the house with the kids—and burdened with a dozen containers full of leftovers and turkey—when Joshua asks, “Is it too late to hang out in the treehouse before going in?”
Tanner and I share a look.
Marcus, reading said look, smirks and says, “I’ll put the food away and get snacks,” before heading into the house ahead of us.
And there we are: Tanner at the edge of the new treehouse overlooking the pond, legs dangling under the railing.
Marcus on a blue beanbag with his tablet.
Joshua and I on the floor between them playing a Pokémon card game I barely understand (his latest obsession) and what better way to end the night than to spend a quiet moment in Joshua’s dream treehouse with the family I love?
“Few weeks ago, that morning at your parents’ right after the storm …
” Tanner and I are down on the dock while the kids stay in the treehouse playing a rather heated round of the card game.
“It was just before we spoke to the kids, you said you had a confession to make, but never told me what it was. It’s been naggin’ at me. ”
Tanner takes hold of my hand. “Takin’ the advice from a pal, I started writing you a letter. A real one. Figured if I couldn’t say all the stuff in person, maybe I could write it down. It was gonna be my last stitch effort to win you back, had you not … come around.”
I lift my eyebrows, surprised. “Did you finish it?”
“Nope.” He turns to me and smiles. “Guess I don’t have to.”